Even Better
by SepticLovebite
Summary: He knew how to push her. When to stop. How to rile her up so that she worked faster, with more fury. Just like he knew when she had too much, he would push in front of her and take over. She loved him for it.


Author's Note: OMFG. SERIES 3 IS GONNA KILL IT. I haven't abandoned Tempest, I'm halfway through the next chapter and then I saw Seed and this happened. Seeing as I failed utterly to finish it before the premiere I am now content to take my time and make it kick ass. Many thanks for the reads and reviews on the last chapter though!

If you haven't seen the first episode of season 3, then this doesn't technically _spoil_ anything. But it does make references to one particular scene in the first episode although you really wouldn't know if you haven't seen it. It's set prior to series 3 but only just.

* * *

It didn't get that cold in Georgia, even in the depths of winter. For that, Carol was infinitely grateful. They still spent far too many nights outside. This one made her shiver, even through her blankets.

Still, her body knew it was time to get up. The moon was clear and bright, right over her head and signaled her turn to get up for watch. She braced herself to emerge from her woolen cocoon, snapping and cracking her aching limbs and as per usual, a short, low whistle came from behind her. Carol tilted her head back to look back as she clambered up right and Daryl was looking right at her, jerking his head to her.

Always so damn impatient, she thought with a chuckle. Maggie and Glenn hadn't even walked back to the campfire and Daryl was already pacing a circle, his poncho whirling behind him like a cape in the cool breeze.

She gave the young couple a soft smile as she picked up her pistol and stuff it into her waistband and traded off her blankets for a crowbar from Glenn. By the time she caught up with Daryl, he was crouched to the ground, fingers running lightly over a patch of what looked to Carol like dirt, but was probably animal tracks. Or Walker. Who knew anymore?

"Dinner?" She asked softly, standing a little ways away, because the last time she got too close, he chewed her out for "stompin' her pretty lil' feet all over the damned trail". She had snorted at him on that occasion, if only because her feet were anything _but_ pretty these days. But he had laughed at himself as soon as he looked at her. They laughed more than ever now, the pair of them, even though their situation was beyond dire.

"Naw, it's gone. Was a fox." He stood up and adjusted the strap of his crossbow, returning to his slow, even pace, brushing past her and squeezing her shoulder as he did.

She never thought it would be this easy between them. Back at the farm, she thought all hope lost. They both said things, things that hurt so badly. But time, like her mother always told her, healed all wounds. The farm was a million years ago now and absolutely everything had changed.

She had changed. She had no choice, as much as she hadn't wanted to, it was thrust upon her when three days out from the farm, Daryl shoved a knife in her hand and told her to get to work. So she did as she was ordered.

He knew how to push her. When to stop. How to rile her up so that she worked faster, with more fury. Just like he knew when she had too much, he would push in front of her and take over. She loved him for it.

"Hey, maybe you'll spot more of that wild turkey. That stuff was good." Carol's hand went to her stomach, without her realising.

"You been eatin' dirt for too long." Daryl stopped and waited for her to fall into step with him. "Been spottin' deer tracks, this afternoon. That'll be a good meal."

"You never said." Her tone came out as accusing and she cleared her throat as if it could change it. "Rick would've held up where you needed to go after it."

"It ain't just one about. I'll get one soon." His lip curved up into a smug grin as he side-eyed her and she bumped his shoulder with hers, matching his expression.

"I know it."

They walked the wide circle for a while, content with the silence. On her third go around, her brow furrowed and she slowed to stop as she watched Lori shift in her sleep. The pregnant woman squirmed in discomfort, hand attempting to massage the pain from her spine.

"She's fine." Daryl's breath was hot on her chilled skin, just behind her ear. "Ain't nothin' you can do for her that you ain't done already."

She turned her head to look at him from the corner of her eye, pleasantly surprised that he didn't back up. She liked it. Liked having someone close. It was a comfort.

"It's not enough." She murmured, turning fully to face him. He made to say more but she decided she didn't want to hear it. It was too wearing. She lifted her free hand up, brought her rough and calloused fingers to the side of his jaw, giving him a soft squeeze. "But thank you, for saying something nice to make me feel better."

His face contorted into a grimace and he snorted, fixing her with a look of derision. But it wasn't serious, she could tell by the gleam in his eyes. "Woman, when have I ever done shit t'be nice?"

Her mouth puckered as she forced herself to not laugh out loud and disturb the others. She thought of the many things she could use as an argument but decided to let him win this one. She brought her hand down and got back into step.

Watch always passed quickly with him. They could stroll about for hours, never saying a word and she was always surprised when he'd nudge her back towards camp, silently telling her to get back to the warmth of the fire and rest up for a couple more hours.

Carl got up with his father and she resisted the urge to ruffle his hair before he pulled on his hat. He wasn't a child anymore. It didn't matter that he was only thirteen. Treating him like a child was done with. Not even Lori had the energy to treat him any different now. The boy gave her a nod and passed over his blanket.

Carol mouthed a thanks to him and sat herself on the hard earth. She heard Daryl whisper something to Rick and as she turned on her side, she felt his presence over her. He dropped to the ground beside her, his crossbow above both their heads.

Daryl shuffled backwards, pressing his back against hers, she tossed over one half of the blanket and he harrumphed at her interference, but didn't remove it. His leather crinkled against her as he shifted in his sleep, twisting this way and that, his feet hitting the back of her calves as he twitched.

"Daryl." She hissed lowly, turning onto her back and elbowing him in the gut. "Will you cut it out?"

"Imma tryna sleep here." Daryl grumbled into his bag, doubling up as his pillow. He elbowed her back in retaliation, though in his sleep-fogged state he barely touched her.

Carol sighed and wiggled deeper into the blanket as Daryl's body fell limp against hers.

* * *

Another day, another abandoned house with nothing worth taking. No guns, no ammunition. One box of mouldy crackers and a dented can of kidney beans. Still, the place had just the one Walker and she had gotten to split it's skull with her crowbar.

They didn't make her stomach turn anymore. No revulsion. No pity. No hate. She didn't think about them as people. Just another thing that stood in the way of her survival. Sometimes, when there wasn't so many of them, when she knew her odds were better than the creature's, she liked to watch. Observe. They'd learned many things about Walker behaviour over the last few months. How they herded together, the kind of things that made them shift direction, how to confuse them when brute force wasn't an option.

Lori laughed and called her fascination morbid when she tried to explain one day in the truck. Carol just wished there was time to stop, to really look and see and take in the things they learnt, because surely the key to defeating Walkers for good came from observation. Observation and experimentation.

"Come on. Huntin' time." Daryl toed her hip with his boot and she picked herself up off the floor. She hated hunting with him. Hated that it always seemed to be her turn more often than anyone else's, except maybe Rick. He seemed to spend half the time giving her filthy looks and the other half openly cursing her out for fucking up the trail or scaring away the game.

But less than half an hour in, she quickly realised that this wasn't an ordinary hunt. He moved with purpose, almost striding through the forestry, hardly glancing down at the trail he seemingly followed. He knew what he was looking for. She remembered their conversation the previous night and she couldn't help but smile to herself. _He was showing off._

His hand came out in front of her suddenly and she jolted to a stop. "Stay." He muttered, barely audible and she didn't dare even move her feet as he moved soundlessly forward, crossbow raised to his shoulder.

The bolt went flying before she had even spotted the creature, the doe fell to the ground with a heavy thump. Daryl slung the crossbow over his shoulder and went to inspect his kill. She was surprised he didn't gloat immediately, instead he just held his hand out for the bag she carried over her chest, containing the things he needed to field dress the animal. He was quick about it, tossing aside the parts they didn't want or need, whilst she stood behind his back, keeping an eye on the surrounding forest.

"Told ya." He murmured once, he was done fixing the last knot and pulling up from his crouch. He looked her right in the eye, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back his smile, she knew.

"I never doubted you." She chuckled back. "Not even a little bit." She held her hand out for the end of the rope and he swung it like a lasso in front of her, stepping from foot and giving her that look, the one that suggested he was considering her, deciding if she was telling the truth or not.

Her stomach fluttered nervously under his gaze and for once, she found herself feeling the uncomfortable one.

"Come on." She smiled cheekily at him. "I'm hungry."

It seemed enough to startle him into action and he pushed the rope into her hands and took another for himself.

"I want prime steak tonight, yanno. Medium-rare." He told her as he began tugging the heavy carcass towards their camp.

She snorted. "I'm hauling ass as much as you, you can cook the damned steaks."

He dropped his end of the carcass and turned to her, hand on hip. "Hey, if we were followin' _your_ trail, we'd be halfway to fuckin' Mexico. And I'm sure I used _my_ arrow."

"Hey, are we going to get back to camp and slice this thing up or are you going to stand here bitching like a little girl?" She sucked in a breath as she spoke. Things had changed. People had changed, but she wondered if it was a joke too far. She teased him more than anyone else ever dared, tried to keep things light when all hope seemed lost.

He let out a tut and took a step forward, eyes narrowed and he was all but an inch or two from her face. She thought he was maybe trying to psych her out, or he really was pissed. But she somehow doubted it. It had been so long since they'd had a real disagreement. She had begun to think of him as her best friend.

But best friends didn't look at each other the way he was looking at her right now. And best friends didn't have butterflies fanning the flames of the fire in her stomach, making her itch to tear her eyes from his gaze.

She didn't know who started it, but suddenly they were a tangle of teeth and lips. Her hands found their way around his neck and he was clutching at her hips, dragging her body to his. His mouth was hot and wet, pressing roughly against lips, pushing her jaw open to swirl his tongue with hers.

She pulled her way to catch her breath but he didn't relinquish his hold, just gripped her tighter in his hands, pulled the length of her body right up against him, on the verge of grinding against her.

His face nuzzled against the side of her neck, breathing heavily on her skin. God, it had been forever since she'd gotten off. She still missed her damn vibrator.

It would be easy, a quick fumble against a tree and no-one would ever know. They were always sweaty and grubby these days, with rumpled hair and chapped lips, so what would five minutes of hot and heavy matter?

She tugged his hair to pull his head up, gave him a quirk of her lips before diving in for another kiss and his hand found his way to the hem of her top, fingers burrowing underneath.

There was a rustle from behind her and she froze. As quickly as their tryst began, it ended, as Daryl jumped away from her, whipping his knife out from it's sheath and charged past her, plunging the steel into the forehead of the Walker that came stumbling towards them through the brush.

She pulled the crowbar free from her belt loop and they stood in silence for a moment, listening out for anymore unwelcome visitors. Once Daryl was satisfied that that was all, he holstered the knife and turned to look back at her.

"Stupid idea anyway." She told him with a shrug and a wry smile. She wasn't embarrassed. Not like she thought she would be. Stood to reason, didn't it? There were only so many of them now, eventually carnal desires would get the better of them. "We've got no time to screw around."

Daryl scuffed the ground with one foot before shrugging back at her. "Ain't exactly romantic, anyhow."

They picked up the doe again together, silently struggling with it back to camp. As Carl and Beth bounded over to help them towards the fire, she gave him one last glance. He studiously avoided her gaze, the faintest hint of pink across his cheeks as he got on his knees to carve up the meat. There would be a time when she would joke about it with him, but not now. Soon.

Because that's what they did. Kept each other's spirits up. Got on each other's last nerve. Drove each other crazy. Protected each other with everything they had. He was her best friend and that was even better than some stupid fumble against a tree.


End file.
